Rocky - Origin - Chapter One

Someone moved in the darkness.  The tall bronzed figure stood still under the single light, waiting for his adversary to give himself away.  A sound came, a shuffle on pavement.  The giant figure pounced at it, catching the other man about the waist and dragging him to the ground.  This other man let out a grunt, and started twisting around on the gravel to get away.

Jim Wildman held on with determination and a set of spikes clamped onto the fellow's trousers.  He had followed the man all day, hoping to find his supplier of antibiotics.  The guy must have finally spotted him, for he had turned into the alley and started slashing with a knife.

The hero was about to apply a nerve pinch, to paralyze the man, when a high voice called from further down the alley, "Harry?" 

The man on the ground squeaked out, "Kid!  Help!"

"Shoot!"  The exclamation was followed by a body and a quick rain of blows on the hero's back, "Let him go, buster!  I'm warnin' ya, I know Judo!"  An errant blow caught his pate, another his ear.

Jim applied the pinch, and stood up.  The blows continued, the legs of his new opponent around his waist.  "Come on, fight back and I'll level ya!"

He reached back and grabbed the kid by the back of his shirt collar, pulling him out to arm's length.  His great muscles barely strained with the boy's struggling weight.  "With Judo, one needs to stand on the ground for leverage.  You were wrestling."

"Lemme go, you big ape, or I'll have ta take yer hand apart!"  Jim turned the boy to face the brick wall and pushed him into it, grabbing one flailing fist in his free hand.  A sharp pain there bespoke the presence of a knife, and he let go.

The kid leapt off the wall and past the wincing giant, to land on the pavement in front of Harry, flashing his blade.  "G'wan, run away ya stinkin' bully, he ain't got no money anyway.  And neither do I, just a whole lot more hurt where that came from."

"All right.  I'll leave.  But if you want some help with your Judo, look me up."  Jim flipped the boy a card and strode out of the alley.  He turned downtown, but once he was out of sight, he stopped, listening.

"Lousy jerk, pickin' on poor Harry like that.  Come on Harry, get up.  Harry?  Oh, no!  Harry!  Harry!  Err... no... he's got a pulse!  Huh!  I thought the guy'ad kill'd ya Harry.  Oh, man, you're sure a lot heavier asleep than ya are drunk."

Dragging noises and an opening door followed, and Jim waited a few moments before re-entering the alley.  He made out a beam of dingy light from a basement door, just before it closed.

He slipped down the alley, light as a cat, and stopped at the top of the stairs, listening.  A barrage of cries came from within, all concerned with Harry's welfare.  The boy's voice cut through them all, telling about the fight.

"Yah, Harry showed up on time for once, but he also showed up with a tail.  No, I couldn't tell who it was, but I don't think he was after Harry's meager wallet."  All trace of street kid was gone from his voice.  Jim strained further, trying to catch an accent.

"I broke in as soon as I noticed, jumped right onto his back, but... Huh, what is it Sarah?  Wha!  What in the world are those?  Woah!  Cool!  People grippers!  See kids?

"You have this in your hand like this, and when you get close enough, you clamp them onto their clothes, and presto!  You have a handhold.  Wow!  They stay open with a spring, and clamp shut with just a little pressure!  I've got to make me some of these!

"Oh! Bill, go up and keep a watch, I don't want that guy sneaking up on us if these happen to have transmitters in them too."  Jim's giant frame melted into the darkness as the door cracked open, permitting an extremely scrawny boy to exit.

This kid, who was obviously Bill, poked the top of his head over the stairs.  He couldn't be seen from the entrances to the alley, but he could see anyone coming, or going.  The bronze skin of the hero was completely hidden in the darkness as he crept closer, to hear the conversation inside through the open door.

"I know it's cold, but I want to be able to hear if anything happens to Bill.  Huh!  I wonder what he did to Harry?  No punctures, no broken glass underfoot out there.  It can't be a contact agent, or I'd be out too.  Maybe pressure points?  Aha!  See Sarah?  Very slight bruises, here, here, here.  That guy pressed Harry's nerve centers, and that knocked him out.

"Yeah, I know it sounds silly, but I knew a guy once who did that.  He'd just touch your shoulder, and you'd be out like a light bulb!  So, if I rub this spot here... and push here... a little pinch here... and give a twist like this..."

The sound of popping joints issued forth from the dimly lit doorway, followed by a long, agonized groan.  "Harry?  Are you OK?"

Harry replied grumpily, "If I was OK, would I be lyin' on yer couch?"  The springs of the same sofa creaked under Harry's bulk.

"Dija see who jumpt ya?"  Jim leaned closer, intrigued by the return of the street slurs.

"Oh, yeah!  I got a real good look.  He was huge!  Musta been at least seven, eight, nine feet tall!  And he was all one color, kind of a... browny, coppery color."

"Sorta like... bronze?"

"Yeah, I suppose you could call it that.  Did you see what happened?  One minit I was on the ground, under 'im.  The next I'm wakin' up in here.  Ack! did 'e get it?  Did he? Did he get it?"

The boy spoke soothingly, like a doctor to a patient.  "No, Harry, I've got everything under control.  Come on, sit up...  Take a sip...  Now, you sit right there while I get the stuff."  He continued speaking soothingly to Harry as bottles clinked and a paper bag rattled.

"There.  OK Harry, here's your stuff.  I'm gonna send Jill here home with you, to keep an extra eye out for that big guy.  If he shows up, she'll get the stuff to your place, OK?"

Jim heard the bag being handed to Harry, put in his pocket.  "OK."  The hero slunk back again as Harry, the unusual boy, and a teenage girl came up the stairs to stand in the alley.

The boy put a hand on the girl's shoulder, "If anything happens, you know the drill."  She nodded and led the grownup out past where Jim was hidden.  She had dark hair and a faded bruise around her eye and couldn't have been more than 15.

The strange boy stood in the light for a moment longer, and Jim took a long look.  The kid's hair was also dark, straight and slicked back, but his eyes were light and his skin exceptionally fair.  His skin was unblemished by disease or puberty, and he looked to be around ten or eleven.

So this was where Harry McDougall had been getting the painkillers for his dying sister.  Now all he had to do was figure out the kid's angle.

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